40 actly, but it comes to the same thIng. Odd, like." "Actually, she was referring to the people over there," Davis put in hasti- ly, indicating the disorganized couple who had come up with the Stones "She was saying that the morning seemed to have started a little too suddenly for them." "No, you missed my whole point-" the girl began, but Stone cut her off. "I'll tell you one thing," he saId. "That guy may not look like much right now, but I'm here to tell you he could buy you and I five times over, any day in the week. )T ou know who he is?" "Who?" asked the girl. "He's Morgan Proctor, thdt's who," Stone replied. "The guy that may take over the New Haven." They all looked at Proctor, who by now had worked out a makeshift ar- rangement with his trousers and was trying to calm his wife. For a few sec- onds, nobody spoke, and then the girl said, "Mayhe he needs help. I think I'll go see." "I think you'd better not," Davis said, then realized he was sounding too proprietary. "I don't think he needs any help," he finished lamely. "I do," said the girl, and left. " Th ' d . h " S . d at s some IS, tone sal. "What did you say her name was?" "I have no idea," Davis replied, watching the girl as she approached the Proctors. "I just met her a few minutes ago. I was on my wav to the office, and she was comIng down from the roof." "I think I'll start coming to the roof in the morning," said Stone. "You wouldn't mInd, would you, sugar?" Davis had started to say "It's noth- ing to me," when he realized the ques- tion hadn't been addressed to him. For lack of anything better to do, he laughed, and both Stones looked at him curiously. "You're the only person I know who laughs at Luther's jokes," Mrs. Stone said "You must be soul mates, or some- thing. " T HE door of the shed flew open and the policeman emerged, followed by a haze of dirty smoke. "Everybody stay calm!" he bellowed. "Get away from the edge of the roof! Stay in one place! All of you, come rIght here and don't move! Just be calm!" Then he turned back and disappeared. In the SI- lence that followed, there came the tinkling sound of breaking glass. The people drifted away from the edges of the roof, and as they converged toward the center Davis heard the girl saying RESCUE WITH YUL BR YNNER (APPOINTED SPECIAL CONSULTANT TO THE UNITED NATIONS HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR REFUGEES 1959-60) "Recital? 'Concert' is the word," and stunning, by the Budapest Symphony- displaced but not deterred- listened to by me, though with detachment then, like a grasshopper that did not know it missed the mower, a pigmy citizen; a case, I'd say, of too slow a grower. There were thirty million; there are thirteen still- healthy to begin with, kept waiting till they're ill. History judges. It will salute Winnipeg's incredible conditions: "Ill; no sponsor; and no kind of skill." Odd-a reporter with guitar-a puzzle. Mysterious Y ul did not come to dazzle. Magic bird with multiple tongue- five tongues-equipped for a crazy twelve-month tramp (a plod), he flew among the damned, found each camp where hope had slowly died ( some had never s en a plane) . Instead of feathering himself, he exemplified the rule that, self-applied, omits the gold. He said, "You may feel strange; nothing matters less Nobody notices; you'll find some happiness. No new 'big fear;' no distress." Yul can sing-twin of an enchantress- elephant-borne dancer in silver-spangled dress, swirled aloft by trunk, with star-tipped wand, Tamara, as true to the beat as Symphonia H ungarica. Head bent down over the guitar, he barely seemed to hum; ended "all come home;" did not smile; came by air; did not have to come. The guitar's an event. Guests of honor can't dance; don't smile. "Have a home?" a boy asks. "Shall we live in a tent " "In a house," )7 ul answers. His neat cloth hat has nothing like the glitter reflected on the face of milkweed-witch seed-brown dominating a palace that was nothing like the place w here he is now. His deliberate pace is a king's, however. "You'll have plenty of space" Yule- Yul log for the Christmas-fire tale-spinner- of fairy tales that can come true: Y ul Brynner. -MARIANNE MOORE . . to Mrs. Proctor, "This is the third fire I been in, and they're all the same. Stand and wait, stand and walt, and never once do I even get spoken to bv a fireman, much less carried down a ladder. " Mrs. Proctor smiled, but continued to knead her knuckles. "I'm sure there's no danger," she said. "Only it's so up- setting to be herded around like a flock of sheep. I hate it." "It's a goddam outrage is what it is," Proctor muttered "I'm going to call the Commissioner the first goddam min- ute I get to the office." "You can say that again," said Stone, holding out bis hand. "My name is Luther J. Stone, and this is my wife, and Mr.-uh-Davis." "How do you do," Proctor said, limply taking Stone's hand and nodding to the others To the girl, Stone said, "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."